Olympic fever and other ailments

With the Paris Olympics set to kick off in 55 days, headlines around the world’s biggest sporting event are getting more surreal by the day. From sex-restricting beds in the Olympic Village to a dodgy riverside rendezvous planned on social media, the run-up to the opening ceremony promises to be a doozy. And yet, history has already proven that nothing that happens at the 2024 Olympics will come close to what already happened in 1904.

Amid the blur of election news, I read a headline that stopped me in my tracks earlier this week. “Parisians to ‘take a sh*t’ in Seine ahead of Olympic Games” proclaimed Metro News.

While the headline itself is surprising, the context probably shouldn’t be. Protesting is deeply rooted in the French relationship with their government. As South Africans, this makes sense to us: sometimes, you have to make the government listen to you. From the French Revolution to the numerous strikes and protests seen in modern times, the French have consistently demonstrated a willingness to challenge authority and fight for their rights.

Currently, the object of their ire is the £1.2 billion state-sponsored initiative to clean up the Seine River in Paris. The project aims to prepare the river for various water sports and activities for the Olympics, involving significant efforts to reduce pollution, upgrade sewage treatment facilities and improve the city’s overall water management systems. While one might expect Parisians to welcome this endeavour, they are, in fact, quite furious about it.

So furious that they are organising a “sht flashmob” in the river on the day President Emmanuel Macron and Paris Mayor Anne Hidalgo are scheduled to swim in it to demonstrate the success of the cleanup. The hashtag #JeChieDansLaSeineLe23Juin, which translates to “I sht in the Seine on June 23,” started trending on X after Hidalgo announced the date of her swim. Additionally, a website with the same name was launched, allowing participants to share the locations where they plan to defecate.

Charming.

As South Africans, all we can do is set our calendar notifications and watch the headlines to see if they go through with it. While we wait, allow me to remind you that even if the president of France and the mayor of Paris take a dirty dip on the 23rd of June, that still won’t be the wildest story in Olympic history.

That honour belongs to the story of the Men’s Marathon at the 1904 Olympics in North America.

The marathon that almost ended all marathons

Nobody starts off at their job as an expert. Keep this in mind when you think about the team that planned the Men’s Marathon at the first-ever Summer Olympics hosted in the United States, way back in 1904. While they had no experience, these event planners clearly had high aspirations and an irrational sense of optimism in the abilities of human runners.

The marathon took place on the 30th of August. Since no standard for marathons existed yet, the race was an arbitrary distance of 40 km. While most marathon events around the world are usually scheduled as early as possible in the morning, this one started at 15:00 and was run during the hottest part of the day. 32 athletes representing seven nations, including the United States, France, Cuba, Greece, South Africa (in our Olympic debut!), Great Britain and Canada competed, but only 14 managed to complete the race.

So, what went wrong? For starters, the majority of the race took place over country roads that were centimetres deep in dust. There were seven hills, some with brutally long ascents. In many places, cracked stone was strewn across the roadway and runners had to constantly dodge crosstown traffic, delivery wagons, railroad trains, trolley cars and people walking their dogs.

Despite the heat and the dust, there were only two places along the course where athletes could secure fresh water – from a water tower at 9 kilometres and a roadside well at 19 kilometres. This was done on purpose, as James Sullivan, the chief organiser of the games, wanted to minimise fluid intake to test the limits and effects of purposeful dehydration. It sounds like torture (and it probably is), but this was actually a common area of research at the time.

So, how did the athletes fare?

Not great, as you could probably guess.

During the race, John Lordan, who had won the 1903 Boston Marathon, was violently ill after 16 kilometres and retired, while Sam Mellor, who had won the 1902 Boston Marathon, was also overcome by the dust. Despite leading the field at the halfway mark, Mellor became disoriented and ultimately dropped out of the race after 23 kilometres.

The first to arrive at the finish line, after three hours and 13 minutes, was American Frederick Lorz. After being hailed as the winner, he had his photograph taken with Alice Roosevelt, daughter of then-U.S. President Theodore Roosevelt. She placed a wreath upon Lorz’s head and was about to award him the gold medal when spectators claimed Lorz had not run the entire race. Lorz, suffering cramps, had actually dropped out of the race after 14 kilometres and hitched a ride back to the stadium in a car, waving at spectators and runners alike during the ride. When the car broke down at the 30th kilometre, he re-entered the race and casually jogged across the finish line.

Thomas Hicks ended up as the winner of the event, although he was aided by various measures that would definitely not have been permitted in later years. 16 kilometres from the finish, Hicks led the race by 2.4 kilometres but had to be restrained from stopping and lying down by his trainers. From then until the end of the race, Hicks received several doses of strychnine – a common rat poison, which stimulates the nervous system in small doses – mixed with brandy and egg white. He continued to battle onwards, hallucinating the entire time, and was barely able to walk for most of the course. When he reached the stadium, his support team carried him over the line, holding him in the air while he shuffled his feet as if still running.

Cuban postman Andarín Carvajal had also joined the marathon, arriving at the last minute. After losing all of his money gambling in New Orleans, he hitchhiked to St. Louis and had to run the event in street clothes, with his trousers cut around the legs to make them into shorts. Not having eaten in 40 hours, he stopped off in an orchard en route to eat some apples, which turned out to be rotten. The rotten apples caused him to have strong stomach cramps, and he had to lie down and take a nap. Despite his discomfort and the pause, Carvajal somehow still managed to finish in fourth place.

The South African entrants, Len Taunyane and Jan Mashiani, finished ninth and twelfth, respectively. This was a disappointment, as many observers were sure Taunyane could have done better if he had not been chased nearly 2 kilometres off course by wild dogs.

A far cry from the sophisticated heritage of the Greek marathon, the marathon at the 1904 Summer Olympics sounds like it was closer in theme to a carnival attraction. Despite public outcry and a threat to ban the event from future Olympics, the marathon endured and has remained a staple of the Olympics since then.

As a staunch feminist I’m surprised to see myself write these words, but thank goodness there wasn’t a women’s event.

About the author: Dominique Olivier

Dominique Olivier is the founder of human.writer, where she uses her love of storytelling and ideation to help brands solve problems.

She is a weekly columnist in Ghost Mail and collaborates with The Finance Ghost on Ghost Mail Weekender, a Sunday publication designed to help you be more interesting.

Dominique can be reached on LinkedIn here.